


The Less You Know

by il_ly



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, First Time, Get Together, M/M, character study of sorts, pinning, slow buid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 18:45:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/il_ly/pseuds/il_ly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More than ten years after he joined shield the most 'domestic' relationship Coulson had experienced was the one he had built with the agent under his direct command, Clint Barton and wasn't that a surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Less You Know

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd. I am sorry for any mistake you'll find.

 

Agent Phil Coulson's reputation within SHIELD and particularly among the younger agents was part admiration, part fear: Coulson could pin you down with a stare and he would. Of course, the older agents or anyone who had the opportunity to actually work with him new that there was more to the most BAMF agent. Yes he could kill you with a paperclip while barely breaking a sweat but what really gave Phil Coulson his status of SHIELD legend was the knowledge that if you were on Coulson's team, the odds for you to come back to your family in one piece were significantly increased. He cared for his team. Plain and simple. Yes he was experienced and he had proved countless times that he was a good strategist and an even better fighter but his true competence lied in handling a team of agents, he knew how to push everyone to be at their best, he knew how to listen to people's opinion, to make advantage of everyone specialty, he was adaptable, he could keep his calm, an even voice in the agents' ears even in the middle of the worst clusterfuk and he would always go above and beyond to retrieve a captured agent. So for all he was respected and sometimes feared he was also well-liked amongst the agents.

That, of course, wouldn't stop SHIELD's rumor mill, Coulson's name appeared in many betting pools, he was a robot, something coming straight out of a lab with Fury's complicity and if some new differently (he had spent enough evenings around a few beers with Sitwell and Hill for them to still believe that there was nothing more to Phil than a competent agent – yes, the man could be relaxed and open and talk with passion about a thousand things which had nothing to do with work) they kept it to themselves and would just smile knowingly when they heard the newest agents wondered if Coulson was even human.

 

Of course every medal has its reverse, for Coulson, the price paid to his dedication to his work and colleagues was the one of his sentimental life. When you spend the years the most conductive to developing relationships in the rangers, confronting battles and death on a daily basis, sure you'd make some very strong friendships (saving a man's life would do that) but any romantic relationship seems a far stretch.

When Marcus, called him to tell him that _*yes Cheese you and the rangers are a good match but you could do so much more with us*_ , Coulson took a few days to think about it (on the one hand, with the army, he was fighting battles he sometimes had to work hard to find justified but on the other hand he knew he was useful there, useful to his team and he wasn't persuaded that a not-completely-but-we're-working-on-it sanctioned federal agency would be gentler on his moral dilemmas; still he wasn't one to back down from a challenge and SHIELD sounded just like one) and decided to join Marcus – now Nick – to New York and to give SHIELD a try.

 

If he ever thought working a more civil job, based in the country would allow him to date properly and maybe to construct a real relationship with someone, he was proven wrong very quickly. SHIELD with all its limited resources was everywhere, and therefore so was Coulson. He barely had the time to find a nice apartment (he's had enough of military quarter after 8years in the rangers thank you very much) and to move his Captain America memorabilia from his parents' house to his new flat that he was send abroad, getting familiarized with deep undercover work.

But from the first two months he spend at SHIELD, Coulson had known he would not regret his decision, and he had been right, working with SHIELD was a challenge but Coulson thrived in it, he did follow orders just fine when he was in the army but working on a SHIELD operation from start to finish was something else, he needed all his focus and his skills in various fields but in the end he always found the efforts were rewarding when his team got back from a dangerous mission, still buzzing with adrenaline and the sheer belief that as small as the gesture was, they were helping, they were using their skills to do something good and Coulson figured that SHIELD's goals weren't far from his own ideals after all.

Still, dating didn't seem like an option, of course, Coulson was not a monk, he had his fair share of casual encounters, more or less long, with women who didn't seem to be looking for anything serious or if they were, who had quickly realized that when Coulson said he was pretty much married to his job, he wasn't lying. So more than ten years after he joined SHIELD the most 'domestic' relationship Coulson had experienced was the one he had built with the agent under his direct command, Clint Barton and wasn't that a surprise.

 

Coulson had been Barton's handler for three months when the young man showed up at his door one evening.  He had made the couch his own and started rambling about not wanted to watch the match alone tonight and about thinking that Phil -- _we're off the clock so Phil's ok, right?_ \-- might enjoy the company and that they could order a pizza and -- _look, I've bought the beers_ \-- It didn't make any sense to Phil -- _yes Barton, Phil's alright, I'm not fooling myself into thinking I could stop you anyway_ \-- but he was good enough at reading people to see that Barton's cocksure behavior hid a great deal of insecurities and he decided to let it be for the night; after all he liked Barton well enough and yes, the company would be nice.

That first evening with Barton -- _no, Clint. It's only fair_ \-- went surprisingly well, or maybe it wasn't that surprising. When Fury assigned Barton to Phil, the younger agent had been in SHIELD for six months and had managed to work quite a reputation for himself, his file came to Phil with a personal note from Nick 'work your magic' (his best friend could be ridiculous sometimes) and again Coulson thought he was no man to back down  from a challenge, even one in the form of an exceptional marksman (yes he'd been amongst the gathering of gob smacked agents watching Barton operate his bow in the range a couple of times) but apparently also mouthy and insubordinate.

Upon the first mission he went on with Barton, Coulson saw what was the issue: Barton's previous handlers were all idiots. The man was most certainly mouthy, four hours of uninterrupted banter on the comm despite the radio silence order were proof enough but in the 'reckless' and 'unpredictable' actions that had been seen as 'insubordination', Coulson immediately recognized a great strategic mind and a capacity to react rapidly to any situation. If he had to guess, he would have said that Barton probably wasn’t used to being concerted for his opinion on the tactical approach of an op and that he was just seen as a particularly good aim by the senior agents who had worked with him; a close inspection of the mission reports Barton had been on proved him right and well, their loss.

As for the reckless behavior, it's Barton personal file that showed Coulson that the agent was more used to being left to deal with things on his own (violent father- the medical records were clear enough, a brother that vanished into thin air to escape some felony charges) than to find a reliable back up when he needed it; it seemed perfectly convenient that Coulson's specialty resided in just that. He just had to convince Barton that he never let anyone behind and hopefully the younger man would start trusting him to have his back. Apparently he had passed the first test, if Barton showing up at his place was any indication.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

A year into their work-relationship, things were going smoothly between him and Barton. The archer seemed to have realized that he didn't need to prove his worth on every mission by taking inconsiderate risks for himself and that benefited Phil's tension a great deal. Altogether they formed a good team, a great team really. But then again, that's nothing Phil didn't see coming (he knew their skills would complement each other well in the field, in many ways, Clint reminded Phil of Marcus, the more tense the situation, the more sharp he was and if Marcus/Nick was notoriously a ruthless bastard, they'd always worked well together).

What took him off-guard was how quickly the archer had seem to make a place for himself in his life, his personal life that is. The occasional eruption of Clint, beers in hand at Phil's apartment had turned into a weekly event with no set day and no notice but Phil didn't mind and if Clint showed up a couple of times unannounced to find Phil in feminine company, well no one mentioned it afterwards and anyway those occasions were more sparse than ever for Phil.

In his early forties, Phil had experienced a lot, he had travelled into more countries than he cared to remember, endured the worst (those two months of captivity in Brazil hadn't been fun) and he liked to think the best (in the form of a slowing but steadily growing collection of Captain America memorabilia – his vintage card set was on the way to be completed soon, and yes, Sitwell and Hill were making fun of him for his open admiration of the superhero who had been a comforting presence during his childhood but he couldn't care less) but falling in love hadn't been one of those experiences.

Whenever he took the time to really think about it (that's what insomnias are for, self-introspection, right?), he was surprised to find out that the lack of a wife in his life didn't bother him much. His was alone but he didn't feel lonely, his job was fulfilling, he had loyal if slightly on the crazy side friends (only Sitwell could find an explosion that covered every agent in sight in green slime hilarious and take pictures, all that before the scientific team had declared the slime to be inoffensive) and the man he started to see more like a friend than like a subordinate was camping more often than not on his couch.

 

As the months passed, his relationship with Clint was definitely changing. Phil knew by experience that it wasn't rare for the younger agents he was working with to develop a slight crush on him, (he imagined part of it was due to his aura within SHIELD, and no he wasn't blessed with the good looks of someone like Agent Michael for instance but that had never stopped him from finding company when he was looking for some), he just chose to not address it and, more often than not, things would settle by themselves.

If at first he had thought Clint had just developed such a crush, time seemed to prove him wrong, the archer, for all he was looking for Phil's company never suggested that there was more to read in it than a starting friendship and yes, three years in and he would admit easily that Clint Barton and he were friend, sometimes, he even started to think of Barton as one of his best friend. They were still perfectly professional at SHIELD and during working hours but outside of work, at Phil's place their relation shifted from subordinate/superior to equals. And truth be told it felt good.

Phil was completely comfortable around the younger man, he trusted him (and it was mutual), he had no shame in indulging in some trash reality shows from time to time and he let Clint humor him for that just like he would see with indulgence Clint's obsession with old Robin Hood movies (he now owned the complete collection). They would also share more personal stories, Phil's relatively lonely upbringing, with a father more often deployed abroad than home and a mother who was working double shifts, how his captain America comics had filled up the empty space in his life, his time within the army, years later, the good and the bad; Clint too had open up, about his childhood, from his alcoholic father to the time at the circus where he learned everything about betrayal the hard way, about his first months at SHIELD when he still thought that would only be temporary and that they would soon realize he had no business being here, that is until he started working with Phil -- _the legendary Coulson, unflappable, unbreakable agent_ \-- when he was caught off-guard by the person he turned out to be, attentive, open to Clint's suggestions, -- _and dude, I totally caught you smiling at two of my jokes on that first op we had together._ – _Keep dreaming Barton, and 'dude'?, really?_ \-- and finally about the way he life was so much better than what he had hoped for when at seventeen, everything that could go wrong for him went wrong.

 

They settled in some kind of routine, Clint had a spare key of Phil's place and since for him working extra time to make sure his paperwork was complete wasn't an option, he would go home -- _why should I take an apartment, I've got your place and if you want me out I have my quarters at SHIELD_ \- *sigh* _I don't know Barton, maybe you would appreciate to have some privacy, some place to call your own._ – _uh, I know, you're scared that one day you'll come back to find me a compromising position with one of my lucky date_ – _this is pointless, why do I keep trying to talk with you_ \--  and make use of Phil's kitchen (or his kitchen really, Phil barely used it to set the coffee machine in the morning and pour himself some cereals), Phil would text him when he was about to leave the office and he would come back to find a meal set on the table -- _I swear to god, sometimes I feel like I've turned into a housewife_ – _your legs are way too hairy for that Barton_ – _hey! My legs are just fine_ \-- More often than not they would redirect toward the couch to eat in companionable silence, watch a movie and Phil would retire in his bedroom for the night when Clint would settle his bed on the couch (until they took the decision to add a bed to Phil's office). In the morning they would eat breakfast and share a ride to SHIELD, and if the other agents ever caught them arriving in the same car, Clint must have been effective in threatening them because Phil never heard any comments; not that he cared.

 

Fury knew (of course he knew) but when he raised an eyebrow at Phil, his answer was just to shrug. When Marcus asked him if he wasn't a bit old to have a roommate, Cheese just told him off -- _with all due respect, sir_ \--  So yes, Phil had some sort of domestic relationship with the archer under his supervision, he didn't give it much thought as both him and Clint seemed happy with the arrangement; sure the number of women Phil brought home went from few to null, and Clint detailed rendering of his own encounters, both men and woman -- _you know me Coulson, I'm not picky, besides wouldn't be fair to deprive anyone from the wonder that is Clint Barton_ (Phil snorted at that) _and don't worry your virtue is safe with me_ *wink*. - _Jerk_ \-- was becoming more than occasional but there were also a lot of advantages, seriously, numerous reasons why this whole thing was a good idea (if the main reason was that Phil enjoyed Clint's presence in his place, that was no one's business but his anyway).

Besides, Phil's work ethic was irreproachable, he wouldn't coerce Clint into anything using his rank superiority, and he knew that trying to use their friendship for his professional benefit wouldn't even cross Clint's mind. In the end, they were just two friends, who share more or less officially an apartment, who had a platonic relationship and that was fine. Until it wasn't.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

They maintained a form of status quo for a few months; Clint's quarter at SHIELD had been mostly emptied from its contents which had been redirected to Phil's (read his bows are now in Phil's armory), and Phil had put Clint on the lease as a present for his birthday -- _oh Coulson! I'm touched really; does that mean I'm officially your kept man?_ – _You know what, maybe this is a bad idea after all_ – _what, no, Coulson, don't go chicken on me, it's too late anyway; see, I've signed it._ \--

Despite the jokes, Phil knew that the gesture was important to Clint, barely a week after the new lease was signed, Clint staged an intervention for him (Phil liked _how I met your mother_ well enough but he couldn't help thinking Clint took things a bit too seriously), -- _you know I like captain America as much as the next guy, and those posters_ – _vintage posters_ – _yeah okay, those vintage posters in the living room are really nice but do we need to have four of them?_ – _Clint, you want to redecorate that's fine by me, just know there's only a limited amount of purple I can tolerate_ – _jeez, good to know I'm trusted_ \-- Instead of the hurricane Phil had expecting, Clint brought changes to the place little by little but in two months' time, it was obvious that the place didn't only belong to him but that the archer had taken the offer for what it was and had decided to settle in once and for all (and if that meant that now Captain America was sharing a wall with Clint Eastwood, then so be it).

 

Life went on, with its share of SHIELD missions, some less successful than other, and it's one of those failed mission that made Coulson really realize how much space the archer was taking in his life. Going back to an empty apartment when Clint was recovering in SHIELD medical from multiple fractures and a gun wound in the thigh turned out to be harder than he would have thought. Of course it wasn't the first time, Clint had almost a reserved bed at med bay but if his visits at medical were frequent, they were also short, Clint would sign himself out as soon as he felt like he could handle himself and so Phil had gotten used to a grumpy, cranky, injured Clint for company; but with both legs immobilized, Clint wouldn't be home soon.

Right now, the silence and quietness of the place made Phil tense, he decided to call Sitwell to catch up on the new gossips (not that he cared but he guessed Clint would want to know and Sitwell was always happy to deliver). They met at a bar downtown, they were well into their third round when Phil's phone chimed _*Coulson, I'm bored out of my skull*_ , Phil smiled, after all he had left Clint's side three hours ago, that was a record for the archer _*suck it up, next time you'll think twice before getting in without waiting for backup*_ the reply arrived quickly _*come on, you know I won't. I know you miss me too*, * not at all, I'm drinking beers with Jasper right now*, *how dare you!*_ , Phil smiled again and as he lifted his gaze, he found Sitwell staring at him -- _so tell me about her?_ – _About who?_ – _You spend all your time on your phone with a goofy smile on your face, come on Coulson, don't be shy, I'm listening._ \- _First of all I don't do goofy smile, ever, second of all that's none of your business_ – _ha! I knew it! There is someone!_ – _drop it Jasper. By the way, how are things going with Celia?_ \-- And that was it, Jasper was gone.

Phil had always found amusing Jasper's crush on Celia and now that it seemed to be less hopeless for him than anticipated, all of SHIELD was delighted at the play that was developing before their eyes: Jasper was almost as talkative as Clint (which is a lot) but in front of Celia he just turned into a five year-old boy hiding behind his mother's skirt, which was ridiculous, and really come to think of it, Jasper was in no position to meddle in his relationships or lack thereof and Phil didn't do goofy smile, ever, _*Phil come on I'm bored, indulge me*, *Clint, you're a grown man, find something to do, play with your morphine drip, sleep, annoy the nurses If you want; just not me*, *:(*_. Why did he keep up with Clint, Phil wondered.

 

He had more reasons to wonder as he received a call from the nurses' office at med bay telling him that Agent Clint Barton was waiting for him to pick him up as soon as he saw fit -- _no, I said ASAP_ \-- (was that Clint's voice in the background?). And well, if he is being honest (he tries to be) Phil knew that was coming, he hung up, send an email to Fury and his assistant to inform them that he'll take the rest of the day off and possibly the next day too then he set to go and pick up Clint from the hands of a visibly annoyed nurse -- _we've given him the prescription for his meds, and yes, he has to take all of them_ (she sent a pointed look to Clint), _complete rest for at least three weeks, and for the first two weeks, interdiction to move without the wheelchair_ \-- Phil made his thanks and left the medical wing with Clint in tow (he drew the line at pushing the damn wheelchair). Three weeks of an insufferably bored Clint Barton, exactly what Phil needed.

Clint kept a never-ending chatter during the ride, but once in the apartment he had at least had the decency to look sheepish -- _look, I'm sorry, I just couldn't stay in a medical bed one more day, if you want I can go back to my quarters…_ \- _don't be stupid. Let's put you in the couch and I'll cook you something_ \-- After all an insufferable Clint was better than no Clint at all and the mission really had been a close call, Phil could at least admit that.

 

What Phil didn't know was that Clint's immobilization would set up a reaction chain of events upon which he would have no control.

A week in Clint's forced rest, they were watching a western on TV (it was Clint's day to pick) when Clint felt asleep on Phil's shoulder, the gesture in itself wasn't new, Phil allowed himself to doze of a little and when he woke up, the movie had ended and not only was Clint asleep on him, but he was just positively cuddling him, his arms were around Phil's wait, his face was buried in his shoulder and he was nuzzling at him. Phil didn't know what to make of that, he knew he couldn't put it on the meds as Clint avoided pain medication as if it was poison, so he just stood up, laid Clint down on the couch for him to be as comfortable as possible and went to bed.

After staring at the ceiling for some time he fell asleep with the thought of Clint in his mind, when he woke up with a start, the display on his clock was showing 4:38. Phil's breathing was heavy, he felt a thin layer of sweat covering his body and after a quick glance down the bed he had confirmation that he was hard. Phil did a rapid mental check: he just had been awoken by a wet dream. A wet dream about a man. About one Clint Barton. Well.

 

Phil spent the rest of the night staring at his clock as if it had personally offended him; he dreaded to face Clint in the morning for breakfast. Eventually, his alarm went off at 6:30, he went directly to the bathroom to take a shower while trying not to think about his dream from last night.

Clint was still asleep when he went to the kitchen to make some much needed coffee but his head perked up from the couch as soon as Phil had set the mugs on the kitchen counter -- _hey_ – _hey_ – _did you put me to bed last night?_ (Phil did not blushed at that) – _hum…yes. I'm late, I have to go, do you need anything?_ – _bring me some coffee?_ – _yes of course_ – _you'll be home late?_ –  _I'll do my best okay?_  -- Not waiting for Clint's answer, Phil set the mug on the coffee table careful not to meet Clint's eyes and left or more likely fled.

 

As soon as the agent set foot in the SHIELD facility he was assaulted by the staff and was into full crisis resolution mode and with no time left to think about anything but his work until 2pm.

But then, alone in his office he thought back of the previous night, he put his face in his hands hand took a couple of steadying breaths, he didn't want to avoid the issue completely (he had been a jackass to Clint this morning and none of that was the younger man's fault after all) nor give it more importance than it had. So yes, Phil had happen to have an erotic dream about Clint.

The fact that he had fantasies about men wasn't in itself new to him, although he considered himself mostly heterosexual he had a few experiences with men when he was younger (he had always considered it more of an experimentation than a real inclination) and on rare occasions his quest for porn on the internet had led him to gay websites but it never had much incidence on his personal life, except for now apparently, since he was dreaming about doing fairly unspeakable things to his best friend, roommate and coworker.

Phil knew that going down that road was dangerous, Clint trusted him and their relationship, as awkward as it may seem, worked pretty well. All he had left to do was to act like the mature, reasonable man he was, to classify that dream in the one-of category and to help Clint as best as he could with his recovery.  At 5 o'clock, the morning issue was completely settled and Phil chose to write his report from home, he made a quick stop to buy some groceries hoping it would cheer Clint up.

 

He entered the apartment to be greeted by the sight of Clint, on the couch surrounded by at least a dozen of his Captain America comics -- _Phil! Wait, fuck, I swear I was going to put everything back in the boxes and I'm being extra careful_ – _I brought some cheesecake_ – _Wait, you're not mad?_ – _Clint, comics are meant to be read, the very rare ones are locked up in a special box anyway, so no I'm not mad, now do you want some cheesecake or not?_ – _do you really need to ask?_ \-- and at that moment Phil was persuaded that things would be fine, they had to be.

As it turned out, things were fine, mostly. Clint had been through a good chunk of his comic books collection and it seemed to help him control his boredom, his legs were healing nicely and the three weeks of mandatory rest were almost up. With the knowledge that he would soon be back at the range, Clint's mood got better when actually Phil's worsened.

He was now certain that his mind was betraying him , everything Clint was doing seemed suddenly erotically charged, from the little noises he was making when eating something he particularly liked, to his stupid habit of hanging out in nothing but his boxer briefs (and there Phil was worried because how did he managed to live under the same roof than Clint for more than three years and not notice the man was built like a Greek god) and to the way he would always end up asleep on Phil before the end of the movie no matter how much distance between him and Clint he had put in the first place. Without even knowing it Clint had become the biggest tease Phil had ever met (Clint would have found that hilarious).

Clint going back to active field duty was indeed good news, Phil firmly believed that going back to their normal routine would help him get over his little crush (it's not like he was fifteen anyway).

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Clint went back to work, Phil found out he could breathe better, not for the reasons he had imagined but because he had actually missed working with Clint, he knew they formed a good team, that the two of them were competent, unstoppable almost, and they enjoyed going in the field together. That thought put an end to Phil personal crises: his relationship with Clint was too valuable to risk it for what was probably just a fling.

So when Fury came to him to talk about a sensitive file, Coulson was more than ready to jump on the occasion and again, the Black Widow was famous and dangerous but he would not back down from that particular challenge. At the end of their discussion, when he saw that Fury still seemed to hesitate, Coulson spoke up -- _Nick, you know we're up to the task; hell we're probably the team the most qualified to stop the Black Widow._ - _I know Coulson, I trust you, I just want to make sure Barton won't lose his shit before her, there's a lot these two have in common, I don't want it to backfire_ – _Nick, I like you, I really do, but if you think Barton isn't trustworthy_ – _No, no, I trust him, of course_ – _Then that's it, we're on the Black Widow case. You know Clint is SHIELD's deadliest agent, from where I stand you don't have a choice anyway, you need the best and he is it, period_ \-- from the look Fury threw at him Phil feared for an instant that he had said too much, but Nick just nodded and left the room.

 

Thirty minutes later, Clint was in Coulson office, they were reviewing the deceptively meager file on the Black Widow when Clint stopped chewing his pen (Phil's pen) -- _so… sir, 'SHIELD's deadliest agent', I'll take that as a compliment_ \-- for a moment Phil was speechless, he should have known better, Clint was always lurking somewhere when something interesting was happening and the Black Widow was the epitome of interesting. -- _I mean it's nice to know my talents are appreciated sir_ – _well, they are agent Barton_ (okay, now Phil was lost, was he flirting with Clint?), _can we go back to the case?_ \-- Clint's piercing blue eyes were on him for a few seconds before he put his concentration back into the file, they only had a week to get ready after all.

 

Much later, back at their place, diner was silent but not specifically awkward. It's only when the boxes of take-out had been dealt with and Clint was done with channel surfing that he started speaking-- _I was serious earlier, the way you defended me, I… I appreciate it_ – _Clint, maybe I haven't said it enough but you're one of the best agent I've ever worked with, and it only took me 2 hours to figure that out, your rank at SHIELD, your position amongst the other agents, you fought teeth and nails for it and you deserve everything. And that's my professional opinion; the fact that we live together has nothing to do with it._ \-- Phil meant the last part as a joke, mostly, but the atmosphere was suddenly heavy and tensed until Clint nudged at him -- _careful Coulson, you're going soft!_ \-- and went back to watching Dog Cops.

 

The week went by quickly with daily meetings, with Fury, with R&D take-off was planned Saturday at 5am, feeling as prepared as they could be, Phil and Clint went back to their apartment, they cooked a proper meal together and went to eat on the couch -- _so, you think we're ready?_ – _getting cold feet Barton?_ – _no, just, she has quite a reputation_ – _and so do you. She's been on SHIELD's radar for too long now, and Fury believes that this will be the best shot we'll have at her, so that's what we're going to do, give it our best shot._ – _Jeez Coulson, is that all you can do?_ – _shut up and go to sleep, we're leaving early tomorrow and you'll have to be in good shape_ – _I'm always in good shape sir_ \-- Phil raised an eyebrow but just stood up and went to leave the room when Clint's hand wrapped around his arm to stop him. Phil felt an electric shock through his body, he held on his breath when Clint leaned in and kissed him on the lips, it was over before his brain had a chance to catch up -- _for good luck_ \-- Phil nodded and left. Damn Barton and his timing.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The mission, if not a complete failure, was a disaster. Clint had lined up to take the shot but there had been a whispered "sorry, Phil" on the comm before it went off and Clint felt off the map.

It took three days for Clint to reappear to the safe house and he didn't come back alone; that's how Phil Coulson met Natasha Romanov, the Black Widow. Phil had spent those three days alternating between being chewed on by Fury and ravaging the city to find his agent. At that moment he hated Clint for pulling such a stunt on him but even during the worst of it he couldn't, wouldn't believe that Barton had chosen to betray SHIELD. The proof that he was right to not give up on Clint had very few effect on his anger but it was probably because the anger was only here in the first place to hide just how hurt he was. It wasn't SHIELD Clint had betrayed but Phil.

 

Back at SHIELD, they were all caught in a whirlwind of interrogations and reports. Natasha was for the time being in custody, Clint was confined to his quarters and Phil was telling the whole story for the third time to a very pissed off Fury -- _you've fucked up Phil, and big time, and Barton, that…_ \- _he did what he thought best_ – _you've got the fucking nerve to defend him? What's happening to you Phil?_ – _Nick, widow was being a menace outside of SHIELD, if she works for us, it's a win for everybody, I know you can see it too, or she would be dead already_ – _you mean work for us until a better offer comes up and she decides to turn on us_ – _there won't be a better offer for her, she doesn't need the money, not really, we all know that, she needs security and that's what SHIELD can provide, in some ways_ – _are you fucking kidding me? Phil, I…_ \- _look, you've seen the footage, I think she's being honest, she could become your best asset if we convince her to stay with us_ – _that's the problem, Coulson_ – _I don't know what more to say Nick, it's up to you now_ – _about Barton_ – _Barton's my responsibility, I was his handler on the case, if you need a culprit just say the word and I'll hand my resignation_ – _bullshit, the kid just backstabbed you, how can you even think of giving up everything for him_ – _because this isn't personal, because yes he can be stupid but his motives were honest, because…_ - _okay, okay, Phil, you should go home now, you look like shit, I'll call you when I've made a decision_ – _thank you sir_ – _no, no, don't call me sir, director Fury would have kicked your ass out of here faster than light but Marcus still owe you one, just consider the board cleared, now leave, I've still got your mess to deal with_ \--

 

Phil went back to his empty home, he felt relieved that Clint was stuck at SHIELD for the time being, he knew he was just delaying a conversation that needed to happen anyway but right now he just felt tired, a deep bone exhaustion that left him raw and aching. He went straight to bed and slept for 9 hours uninterrupted. 

He woke up to a voice mail on his phone from Fury _*get your ass back here, I need you to work on Romanov's integration. And don't fuck up. Again.*_ At his arrival at shield, he was surprised to see that most of the looks he received from SHIELD agents were admiring, that alone gave him a good idea of the story Fury chose to make public: the mission objective had been to recruit the Black Widow all along, the mission was therefore a success. Phil spared a quick thought to Barton, knowing that the story was good for him; he would become SHIELD's new sensation even if Fury would keep him on a short leash. He suppressed a sigh (it wasn't any of his concern anymore) and headed to Nick's office. 

 

During the following days, he never caught sight of Clint and even if a part of him was longing for the archer, he knew it was for the best. He spent some time with Natasha and she was everything he imagined her to be, strong, scary, competent and proud but also vulnerable and truly ready to give SHIELD a chance. And if the logic part of his brain told him that it was exactly what Barton had seen in her and what had pushed him to act like he did, the less reasonable part of it couldn't help but think that Barton didn't trust him and probably never had, not really.

 

When he entered his place a couple of days later, it was to find Clint sitting on his couch. He looked miserable, his eyes were dark, his shoulders were hunched, Phil felt like he'd been punched in the gut, he cared so much for that man and that was maybe what hurt most, he knew that the last evening they spend together before this whole nightmare started, he would have given Clint anything he asked and now it was over.

His first instinct was to leave but it must have shown on his face because Clint began to speak -- _Phil, Coulson, please, I know I'm the last person you want to see right now but I just need to explain what happened_ – _no you don't, I read your report, you saw a better way to complete the mission, you went for it, SHIELD has gained a new asset and no blood has been poured, you did good agent Barton, now please leave_ – _shit Phil, that's not what I want to talk about_ – _then what do you want to talk about Barton? do you want to talk about how you just went AWOL for three days, how you changed the plans without telling me, how you don't trust me? I was there Clint, I saw all that, I don't think there's anything to add. Now leave, I won't ask you again… or you know what, you can stay for all I care_ \-- Phil did his best to avoid looking at Barton's face and went into his bedroom. After ten minutes he heard the door close shut, he let out a shaky breath, headed to the shower and if a few tears mixed up with the water pouring down his face, no one had to know but him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Fury was still reluctant to pair Romanov and Barton; he said that would be tempted fate. So Phil started working with Natasha while Clint had been reassigned to a different handler.

 

 

A month after Romanov's arrival, the rumor mill was going crazy and it was common knowledge that she was spending more nights in Barton's quarter than in her own. To say that Phil was jealous was putting it mildly but Phil was also a good agent and one thing he knew how to do best was to put aside his personal feelings for the sake of the job. And besides, he liked Natasha, she was competent, and honest with him, she would tell him bluntly what she thought of each op and Phil could appreciate that, they were good together but not as good as he had been with Barton.

In fact he knew that Barton and Romanov would be a better match in the field. That's why he found himself once more under Fury's stare -- _so you're giving up already_ – _no sir, Romanov is a good agent, and she's only been there for a few weeks, but she can be better and I think we can get there faster if she works with Agent Barton_ – _why is that?_ – _Because they're complementary, because she seems to trust him_ – _so you're not just trying to get rid of her?_ – _No sir._ – _Good, I'll assign the both of them to you, effective immediately. You can leave and meet your new team, congratulation Coulson_ \-- Fury's grin was evil and Phil knew there was no point in arguing.

For a minute Phil felt like he wouldn't make it through the day but then again, he always had been proud of his professionalism and now was time to show it.

 

The first time he called Barton and Romanov in his office to tell them about the new situation had been torture, for Clint too apparently as he seemed to not be able to sit still.

The next three times didn't go any better but still, Fury insisted that a real life test was necessary so the three of them were send on a mission that could have qualified as a milk run and only Natasha seemed unaffected by the situation.

As soon as they landed though, old habits kicked in and the operation went smoothly, by the time they got back to SHIELD, they were all tired but content, with the adrenaline rush and the successful mission.

 

 

It only took a day for Clint to bring his report to Coulson, it was the first time Clint had been in Phil's office alone in almost two month -- _listen Phil, sir, I you want me to resign just_ – _don't be stupid, we're adults and we just proved that we could work together, anyway you'll be mostly send on missions with Agent Romanov, I'll only be there as a backup, do you think you can manage that?_ \-- It sounded really bitter, even to Phil's ears.

Barton just seemed to take the blow but suddenly he all but fell into the chair in front of Phil's desk -- _fuck Phil I'm sorry, I just didn't think, you know I love working with you, hell, you're the only reason I lasted that long at SHIELD, the only reason I'm still alive_ – _that's not true_ – _yes it is. Phil you were my first real friend, the first who never asked for anything back from me_ – _you've got Natasha now_ (And if that wasn't the jealousy hitting him back with full force) – _I do but it's not the same, I'm not…_ \- _you're not what Barton?_ – _Nevermind. I'll come and pick up my stuff from your place by the end of the week._ – _You're on the lease; it's your place as much as mine._   – _yeah like you want me there anyway. I just… this is all fucked up and it's all my fault and I hate myself for that trust me but I never wanted this and I don't deserve it but I hope you'll forgive me, someday_ \-- At that Clint stood up and just walked away and all Phil could do was to wonder if this would be his life from now on, watch the man he loved walk away again and again and… Did he just admit that he loved Clint?

 

That night, staring at his ceiling Phil tried to ponder on his earlier discovery only it wasn't a discovery, not really, he cared for Clint deeply and he always had, he had always admire his sense of humor, his courage, his kindness, the younger man, from the moment them met seemed to fit in his life like the missing piece of a puzzle, being around Clint felt right, whether it was at work or at home, and they'd been living together for years, not only under the same roof but really together, when Coulson left his office at night he was heading back to Clint as much as to his place.

In fact the only aspect their relationship didn't cover was a physical one and yet he'd almost drove himself crazy thinking about it. Looking back at all this, it was painfully obvious that Phil had been in love with Clint for a long time. Clint's will to always do what was right, no matter the price it would cost him was something Coulson had always admire and now Phil was making him feel guilty for having done just that.

It suddenly hit him that Clint's actions regarding the Black Widow actually showed how much the archer trusted the agent, he knew that Coulson would still be there for him when he'll come back with Natasha, knew that Coulson wouldn't believe that he had chosen to go rogue, knew that Coulson if no one else would understand his choice. The ugly truth was that Coulson had failed Clint, not the other way around and that hurt even more.

Now Clint had Natasha and Phil had nothing left to do but be happy for them but maybe, if he was lucky, their friendship would be salvageable, he had to try anyway.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Two days later, he was heading back home to find Clint standing in the living-room surrounded by empty carton boxes -- _this is stupid, I've been standing there for hours, I really meant to be out of your way but it's harder than I imagined_  – _I don't want you to go._ (Coulson couldn't help himself) – _what?_ – _I mean, of course you can go, with Natasha and everything but I meant it, this is your place too and well, if you wanted to keep some stuff here or keep using your bedroom well I wouldn't mind._ – _No, you said you didn't want me to go, that's different_  – _What I want doesn't matter anymore, I…, you're an exceptional person Clint and I'm sorry I ever made you doubt that_ – _is this your way of saying I'm forgiven?_ – _this is my way of saying there was nothing to forgive in the first place, I've been stupid_ \--

While he was speaking, Clint had gotten closer to Phil -- _Coulson, I'm going to kiss you now_ – _but, Natasha, you can't…_ \- _Natasha is my friend but she's not the person I'm in love with_ \-- Phil's heart could just have stopped at that he wouldn't have notice; all he cared about was Clint's lips on his own, shaped and firm.

His hands rose like from their own volition to rest on Clint's waist, just above the hips, and apparently that was all the encouragement the younger man needed, he took a step forward and tackled Phil's against the wall, their bodies were flushed and for Phil the sensation was almost too much, he needed more of Clint, needed to feel his skin, to run his hands on his chest, his back, to kiss every portion of skin he could find... he moaned into the kiss but the effect it had wasn't one he expected or wanted.

The archer pulled away his eyes were more dark than ever and his breathing was raged, and Phil only wanted for Clint to keep kissing him, except for -- _Phil, fuck, tell me you want this, tell me you won't freak out_ – _I want you Clint, I love you and I want you, those past two months have been horrible, I need you, please_ – _fuck_ \-- Phil knew he was babbling and he was close to begging but he didn't care, he just wanted to put his hands back on Clint's body, feel the caress of his tongue against his own, be surrounded by Clint's smell…He was so gone for the archer.

 

Clint took his hand and hauled him into the bedroom where he pushed him onto the bed he then proceeded to straddle the other man. All their clothes fled in various direction in a frenzy that seemed to have hit them both, only when they were naked, Clint plastered against Phil's body, they seemed to calm down, Clint was looking at Phil with an unreadable expression and Phil could feel every muscle shift in Clint's body, his erection firmly pressed against his hip, he was at lost and he couldn't stopped a small whimper from escaping his lips –- _Phil.., fuck…, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this…_ \-- Clint's lips were everywhere on his skin, the wet traces they left felt like burns to Phil, this was too much and too little at the same time.

 

Clint made his way down his body to rest his forehead in the crease of his hipbone; Phil wasn't the only one who needed some time to catch his breath. Clint raised his eyes and Phil answered his silent question with a short nod, and finally Clint's lips closed around his sex; he worked his mouth up and down his length, occasionally checking on Phil and whatever he saw in his eyes just seemed to encourage him to renew his efforts.

The sensation was overwhelming, Clint's mouth on him felt so good, he could feel with precision every spot on which the younger man's body was in contact with his, the hand on his hip that helped pin him down, the other one, drawing pattern absentmindedly on his thigh, the foot that was caressing his own…

Phil only feared that this would end too soon -- _Clint, wait, stop_ – Clint raised his head again but now he looked worried – _I…, this is great but I need more, Clint, please..._ –- Clint groaned and nuzzled at Phil's hip with his cheek –- _where do you…_ \- _bedside table, let me_ – _okay--_  They sounded so wrecked to Phil's ears but at least Clint seemed to be as affected as he was if the fingers circling the base of the archer's cock were any indication.

 

Phil retrieved the lube and the condoms and all but tossed them at Clint, he had never felt that aroused in his life, he was dying to feel Clint inside him, the two of them were all that mattered for him right now and he didn't care if his eagerness showed, after all Clint had been his best friend for years.

Clint pulled on the condom with shaky hands and Phil thought that the sight of the man running his hand along his own cock was one of the best thing he had witnessed yet; it send a current of lust through his veins.

Suddenly Clint's mouth was on his own again, one hand cupping his jaw, the other one caressing Phil's body, moving downward to briefly cup Phil's balls, and Phil felt a first slick finger breach his entrance, his breath caught up –- _God, Phil, you're killing me_ \--. Clint was stroking him slowly but with insistence, Phil's legs wrapped around the younger ones, dragging his finger even deeper inside him making him involuntary buckle up.

Clint groaned again and soon the agent felt a second finger nudging his entrance –- _tell me if this is too much_ \- _no, it's good, you feel good, god!_ –- Clint was breathing heavily in his neck sending shivers down Phil's body, he kept opening him steadily for what seemed like hours alternating between kissing him and nipping at his jaw, his neck, his collarbone  until Phil couldn't hold it anymore -- _Clint, I'm ready, I need you now, please--_  

He felt Clint nodding against his chest, then the younger man shifted a bit and lined up; Phil eyes were locked on Clint's penis and he licked his lips in anticipation for what was to come causing his lover to whimper. The feeling of Clint pushing inside him was overwhelming, the burn, the stretch, were almost too much but their eyes were locked and all Phil could think of was 'more'.

When Clint started moving all conscious thoughts flew out of Phil's mind, he was only aware of Clint and him, their body pressed together, moving together towards a common goal. Soon Phil felt his heart rate speed up and the familiar tingle in his toes; all he had to do what to whisper Clint's name for the archer to wrap a broad, callused hand around his shaft and Phil was coming screaming Clint's name, clenching hard around the younger man's penis buried inside him. Clint's thrusts sputtered and he was coming too, tremors running through his whole body. 

 

He collapsed on Phil seemingly unaware of his weight but Phil didn't care, he wrapped his arms into the man's body, ran a hand through his sweaty hair and kissed his forehead. Eventually Clint pulled out, tossed the used condom away but never left Phil's grip. After what felt like an eternity when their breathing was controlled again Clint looked at Phil in the eyes -- _tell me we'll do that again_ - _I certainly hope so, I'm not letting you go Clint, I've almost lose you, I love you, I want to be with you for as long as you'll want me_ – _well, that might be a very very long time then_ – _good_ – _good_ \--

 

The change of status of their relationship wasn't a complete revolution in their life but none of them expected it to be. They had known each other for too long, had been friends for too long. In retrospect, it was the only outcome possible for them, the only outcome that made sense.

Phil couldn't help but see the irony in the fact that if his work at SHIELD had stopped him from forming a relationship for years it was also SHIELD that had put Clint in his way; he certainly wouldn't complain and apparently the archer currently snoring lightly, face buried in Phil's shoulder wouldn't either.

 

 

 


End file.
